in the back of your heart
by Yui Miyamoto
Summary: So, what did Ono think of Tachibana in high school?


**fandom - Antique Bakery**  
 **title - in the back of your heart.**  
 **pairing - ono + tachibana**  
 **rating - pg**  
 **description - So, what did Ono think of Tachibana in high school?**

 **disclaimer – Antique Bakery isn't mine.**

 **in the back of your heart.**  
 **by miyamoto yui**

There he was again with that strange way of his.

A toothpaste ad was just a generic creation compared to the way that HE did it. You know what I mean? That kind of super-hold where actors had to tape their faces so that their wigs would keep from slipping? Invisible tape was applied to make a grin that wide.  
I would touch the tips of my chopsticks wondering, with a slightly amazed and disturbed silence and open mouth, what the hell was he thinking behind those naughty eyes of his. I couldn't hear what he was saying to the most gorgeous girls of the school, but that look inside his eyes was always so infectious. Did anyone else notice?

I looked away before I'd be found out. But when I couldn't hold the urge to laugh, I patiently wiped my mouth with my napkin and got up to leave. I walked to the rooftop and watched everyone as they did their thing. Student council members ran from room to room, clubs were always trying to make new converts for funding, and the jocks were flirting in between playing their respective sports.  
I'd just shake my head and smile with a sigh while staring at the sky.

Time seemed slow even though my heart was beating so fast I had to push my hand over it, pretending to keep it intact.

When had I first noticed that flirt with that unnaturally flashy, energetic smile? It was that time he fell asleep after class. We were assigned to clean-up and for a moment, he put his head on his desk. I watched him for a moment while adjusting my glasses like the nervous dork I always was (and am), not knowing why I felt so compelled to react to him.  
He acted like he was perfect, but there were times he'd sigh out the window too when other people weren't watching.

Then, I had to wake him up and his body jerked. He looked up to me with an annoyed face that instantly changed into that plastered grin. I liked that because he seemed reachable. At that moment, we relaxed for a second.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" he asked, half-dazed and half off his guard, as he scratched his head.

And instead of being as formal as I was with everyone in my life, I just honestly blurted out, "Because you looked so peaceful."  
He blinked at me with a 'huh?' look and started to clean the room with me as the sun was setting. Of course, I couldn't tell him how tensed and intense he always was, so that was why he slept so well in that single little nap.

I'm sure you'd forgotten, though. The next time I spoke to you was when I confessed…

Kanda was out that night celebrating a debut at the gym and Chikage-san was sleeping out in the car waiting for Tachibana, who was looking at his shop proudly. His little mannerisms always made me chuckle softly to myself.  
He leaned forward to wipe down the tables until they were perfect and here I was looking at the pile of flour for inspiration. I ended up taking out my sketchpad and tried to draw random things.

Squeak.  
The door opened and he was halfway through swinging door and the kitchen. "You should get some sleep," he sternly told me while clearing his throat. "If you overwork yourself, this shop won't do so well."

As he said all this to me, I turned my face towards his direction and put my right hand to my mouth even though I was still holding my pencil. "You're right. I'll stop obsessing over this. I've been doing it all day."  
He just nodded and the door swung behind him.

But when I looked at that pile of flour, I smiled widely. I was such a fool.

Even if it was years later, after how many men I'd been with, after his harsh rejection, my heart could still push that all aside whenever he watched me carefully and sincerely. His mouth was as bad as ever, but he was the same as always.  
I didn't like him because he was the top of the class or that he could talk his way out and into everything.

It was because of that smirk of his: The one that said he was having fun.

Just like the one he'd wear whenever he'd hide away at the music room and play the piano just to calm down. Whenever someone insulted him for being so rich, well-known, or smart, he'd laugh it off, but run to the piano and played.

And he always played two types of tunes into one: a melancholic, sentimental piece interwoven into an upbeat, intense creation that made my heart pound even faster than ever.

He played it with closed eyes and there, he bore his heart out to the wind. But I listened even though he never knew.

That smirk always appeared whenever he played, someone in his own world. Someone with a piece of happiness that no one gave through fame or fortune.

That's what he gave me. I tried to recreate these thoughts and feelings into each every pastry I had ever made, hoping that he'd eat them someday. Though he doesn't like sweets, it still led him back to me.

I wonder if all this means something.

I scribbled in a small castle and closed the sketchpad. After clearing everything away, I found him putting on his coat.  
"I thought you'd left a long time ago," I asked, surprised that he was still there. I hoped he couldn't see my face in the darkness. "I know that I sometimes miss when you say goodbye-"  
"Of course it's only proper to say goodbye." He flipped his collar and straightened it. Looking at me, he solemnly nodded with that baby, clean-shaven face that I fell so hard for years ago. "Good night."

"Good night," I said with a small wave, tired and nostalgic at the same time.

He turned around to leave and closed the door behind him. When his car roared away, I shook my head and changed to leave.  
"I'll never understand you."

Click.

That night, I pushed the door of the usual bar, sat down and talked to cutest guy there.  
I laughed and winked at the eighteen-year-old that blushed at me…

It's a strange thing. After having lost the one you love for one reason or other, you unconsciously want to still become the person they want, as if it's a small revenge. You tell yourself that you'll make yourself 'better' (whatever that means to you) and make them regret for rejecting or leaving you.  
And then, by fate, if you find that person that changed you, you realize that you've become the person they would have liked at the time you first fell in love with them.

 ***/*/*/***

The next day, I made sure to add colors to that castle. I didn't know when it would be finished, but I would have time to shape it. But since it's how I feel at this moment, maybe it'll never be finished. Or rather, it'll be the best that it can be at this particular time.

But it's ironic, isn't it? You like yourself now, but you would have never become this strong or understanding without that rejection.  
And you love that person more for it.

Hopelessly, in the back of your heart.

"Good morning, Ono," he greeted me as I stepped into the kitchen.  
And all I could do was smile, almost wanting to shamelessly hide that sketch from him even though it shouldn't have mattered. It did though.

Somewhere, because this was how memories were etched with time and emotions…  
…it always would.

I hoped it made one on him too.

 **Owari.**  
 **-**  
 **author's note –** Who would have thought I'd make a story for Antique Bakery? I don't know why, but I like the title a lot. It got me back into my cake kick (since Kanda/Takizawa Hideaki makes eating look SUPER SEXY * ahem *) and made me giggle as if eating icing whenever I re-read it.

Since it's Christmas, I wanted something sweet.

Love,  
Yui

Sunday, December 25, 2005  
11:51:56 PM


End file.
